


Haemoglobin

by Athos of Trevilles boudoir (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, I don't know, I use technical language I'm sorry, Multi, Ohhh werewolves too, Sort of a Supernatural AU?, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Athos%20of%20Trevilles%20boudoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos is just your ordinary Pinon citizen. Does his taxes, keeps his head down, drinks the blood of the occasional wrong do-er.</p><p>Just one problem with that.</p><p>Athos is a vampire and in France, the paranormal aren't accepted as much as normal folks. </p><p>There's a killer on the loose and it's up to the Musketeers to find and kill who ever is responsible... And they're closing in on Athos.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Tags will be updated as the story progresses. I don't want to give too much away.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Athos was wandering; just wandering.  
  
Sometimes, the arguments his neighbours got into were just too loud. His ears were still slightly ringing from the smashing glasses and splintering wood that had occurred when the wife had returned too late. What were their names again..? Armand and Adele? That sounded about right. Normally, the way the man treated his wife, as if she were an object to be used, thrown around and beaten would rile Athos, but not today.  
  
He just wanted some peace and quiet.  
  
The quiet sounds of the brush gently rustling in the wind was calming; that and, Athos never had to be fully in control of himself or his urges in forests and clearings like the ones he was walking through. Whispers were enough to keep anyone at bay.  
  
Slowly, Athos’ baby blues flicked upwards to stare at the moonless sky. Carefully, eyes never moving as they took in each and every star he could see, Athos settled down on a rock, allowing his tongue to gently run over his slightly sharper canines.  
  
Soon, he mused, soon he would pay a visit to Armand. But soon would come, and now there was only the sky and the stars for his attention to focus on. The night was still young, even if it was the early hours of the morning. He had the time to do whatever he wanted. Swim in the river, go for a walk, check in on his ex... The possibilities were endless.  
  
Endless, that is, until the soft rustling of a bush caught his attention. That bush hadn’t been rustled by the wind.  
  
Like a shot, his head spun round, staring down the small pathway. The soft murmur of _shit_ could be heard and slowly, Athos stood. He didn’t want to wait to find out who was waiting down there. Luckily for him, the sound of screaming pricked his hearing and he turned, walking quickly down the way he had come, ears pricked and listening for any sign of anyone following him.  
  
//  
  
A small crowd outside of Armand’s house was definitely not what Athos had been expecting and slowly, he made his way through the crowd. The sight he saw froze him to the spot.  
  
Adele was hanging out the window, stomach slashed open, her own body used to tie her to the wooden frame.  
  
Bile rose in his throat but he pushed it down, opting to ignore his sense of smell as he made his way to Armand, kneeling in the front garden, screaming for help. He tugged the man into his arms, hiding his face from the sight above. The whispers of the crowd were audible, and their questions found their way into Athos’ own mind.  
  
Could Armand have done this to Adele?  
  
It was no secret that their relationship was abusive but murder..?  
  
No. No, Armand wouldn’t have been capable to do this. Despite how he showed it, he did love Adele; they just weren’t suited to each other.  
  
Horse hooves pounded on the ground and Athos looked over to see the Red Guards, moving people out the way to get through. Dujon, their leader, gave Athos a small nod. Athos shook his head in return before looking down at Armand. Dujon nodded before climbing off his horse and stepping into the house. Athos cleared his throat and gently stood, helping Armand off the floor and threw the crowd to his house next door. The man was still sobbing into his hands and Athos gently sat him at the table, placing a small bowl of food in front of him. Armand shook his head and allowed himself to remain crying.  
  
//  
  
It took a few hours but Armand eventually fell asleep at the table. Athos sighed softly, moving to lift Armand gently in his arms and take him through to his spare room. He may have hated how the man treated his wife – and Athos’ friend – but he couldn’t leave the man on his own, grieving like this. Athos moved over to the window, leaning on the frame as he stared outside. The crowd had cleared now and the Red Guards had wrapped Adele’s body in sheets, laying her in a cart that had been sent for.  
  
Athos’ eyes searched for Dujon, spotting him pretty quickly. A frown crossed his pale lips when he saw him talking to two men he had never seen in the village before. One taller than the other, he was dark skinned, a scar over his left eye, dark brown eyes. The smaller one was pale – he looked almost Spanish – with curled brown hair, dark brown eyes that could almost be considered black. He narrowed his eyes watching them; their attire suggested Paris and Athos could almost sense the weapons hidden under the bulk of their jackets. The dark-skinned one looked up at the window, and nodded at Athos – a gesture which he did not return. He frowned before returning his attention to Dujon and his comrade before they nodded. They stood talking almost silently for a moment before turning on their heel and heading down the same track Athos had taken out of the woods.  
  
Athos watched them leave and he stared at the fleur de lis on their uniform, wrinkling his nose as he did so.  
  
 _Musketeers_.


	2. Chapter 2

The smack to the back of d’Artagnan’s head caused the male to squeak in surprise, rubbing the back of his head.  
  
“What in God’s name was that for?”  
  
Porthos stared down at d’Artagnan, eyes flaming.  
  
“You fell asleep whilst watching the _nosferatu_ , and now there’s a dead body. What do you think?”  
  
“Hey it’s not my fault! Aramis kept me up two nights in a row. I’m tired.”  
  
“Treville will have your guts for garters if you keep messing up. And so will I.”  
  
d’Artagnan gulped a little, looking back at the fire in the middle of their camp.  
  
“Besides, it is a Musketeer’s duty to keep people safe. That often means many late nights. If you can’t handle that, why did you sign up?”  
  
“Revenge.”  
  
“A foolish man’s quarrel.”  
  
“A _lyconthrope_ murdered my Father.”  
  
“And now a _nosferatu_ has murdered someone’s wife.”  
  
d’Artagnan glared at Porthos as he sat down before returning his attention to the piece of bread in his hand, tearing a small amount off with his teeth.  
  
“All we know is the _nosferatu_ lives next door. He took the widower over shortly after he discovered his wife... He’ll be dead by morning.”  
  
“Are we sure this _is_ a _nosferatu_?”  
  
Porthos rose an eyebrow at d’Artagnan.  
  
“What makes you think it’s not?”  
  
“The amount of blood left at the scenes. Surely a _nosferatu_ would drain all the bodies of blood, not leave them almost full of it, dripping it all over.”  
  
“You should listen to your pet.”  
  
//  
  
Rochefort watched in amusement as the two elders of the group panicked, trying to tug their guns out of their pockets.  
  
“I’ve drunk recently; I’ve no interest in any of you. Except maybe, your pet.”  
  
d’Artagnan’s eyes widened a little bit, shuffling away from the voice. Rochefort took a step into the fire’s light.  
  
“Oh would you stop with the gun? Little bit rude, wouldn’t you say?”  
  
“We would never trust a _nosferatu_.”  
  
“Your Captain does.”  
  
“Treville always has had a soft- How do you know that?”  
  
“Athos and I have been pardoned by him. He sees us as no threat to anyone. Except you if you keep pointing that gun at my face.”  
  
Aramis hesitated before slowly lowering his weapon, keeping his finger on the trigger.  
  
“Firstly, Adele Bessette was not killed by Athos de La Pinon. I know Athos well... Adele was his friend and she relied on him. He wouldn’t murder her, especially not in such a horrific way as she was, and he certainly wouldn’t leave her with a single drop of blood in her body.”  
  
“He’s the only paranorm in the area.”  
  
“Oh there are many, many more ‘paranorms’ in this area then you believe there to be, mon Cherie.”  
  
Porthos narrowed his eyes.  
  
“And what else is there?”  
  
“Why should I tell you that?”  
  
Rochefort walked past d’Artagnan, running a hand through his hair, a smile on his face at the shiver that went through his body.  
  
“Because it could save lives.”  
  
“Oh but the hunt is just part of the fun... For myself of course. I wish you luck, Musketeers.”  
  
Porthos fired a shot but it was too late. The blond had disappeared. Porthos scowled whilst Aramis moved to wrap a blanket around d’Artagnan.   
  
//  
  
Athos was watching Armand, checking to make sure he wasn’t suffering nightmares. Sights such as Adele’s death could be traumatizing to the human mind. At the moment, he Armand seemed to be dealing with it; his mind was more than likely too exhausted to do anything with the images that were no doubt secured in the man’s mind.  Athos sighed softly. Who – or what – would have killed Adele? She was a sweet woman; faithful, always cheery... Who would take that away from the world?   
  
Arms slid around Athos’ waist and slowly, he raised his head.  
  
“Rochefort... Why are you here? Dangerous for us to be out now.”  
  
“I spoke with the Musketeers.”  
  
“So that’s what the pistol shot was.”  
  
Rochefort rested his forehead on Athos’ shoulder, arms tightening around him slightly.  
  
“Why are you here in Pinon?”  
  
“Family.”  
  
Athos tensed.  
  
“I said not yet.”  
  
“I know. I’m still waiting. Don’t believe I’ll turn from you.”  
  
Rochefort moved away from the elder, sitting on the window sill.  
  
“What did you tell the Musketeers?”  
  
“That you didn’t murder- Maybe we should take this elsewhere.”  
  
Athos took one glance at Armand before nodding, beckoning Rochefort to his own bedchambers.   
  
“Impressive, they are not.”  
  
“When have I ever been a materialistic person, Rochefort?”  
  
Athos sat down, tugging his shoes off before sliding in under the covers. Rochefort tugged his jacket off, kicking his shoes off before sliding in under the covers, resting his head on Athos’s shoulder, arm wrapping around his chest.  
  
“I told them that you were not the murderer.”  
  
“They believed you?”  
  
“Of course not. I did tell them that you and I weren’t the only ‘paranorms’ in the area.”  
  
“Paranorms..?”  
  
“A word they used that I assume means us and the rest of the non-normal folk.”  
  
“You know what killed her?”  
  
“I’ve an idea. But I refuse to give you any detail until I am sure of myself.”  
  
Athos nodded in the dark, hand moving from around Rochefort’s waist to gently run fingers through his hair.  
  
“May I stay the night?”  
  
“If you so wish.”  
  
Rochefort settled down, allowing his eyes to close. Athos moved to press a kiss to his temple.  
  
“Sleep, Cherie, you must be exhausted coming from Spain.”  
  
Rochefort made a sleepy noise of agreement before his breathing stopped completely, mind already off to dream. Athos smiled softly, making sure to tuck the blankets around them tighter before allowing a few hours sleep for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nosferatu_ \- Vampire  
>  _Lyconthrope_ \- Werewolf


	3. Chapter 3

Athos woke up the next morning, groggy, not quite sure why he was awake.  
Until the pounding on his door sounded again.  
Slowly, he sat up, realising Rochefort was gone from his arms, and his window was wide open. So much for wanting to stay the night. A groan escaped his lips as the pounding came once more. He could hear Armand in the other room, grumbling.  
  
“I’m coming damn it.”  
  
Athos stood, slipping his jacket on – it was freezing – and shut the window before heading downstairs. He opened the door, to be faced with the Musketeers. Athos’ eyebrow became a delicate arch and he purposely leant in the doorway, blocking any entry.  
  
“What have I done now?”  
  
“Nothing, as far as we’re aware. We were just wondering if you’d seen a blond _nosferatu_. Male, about the same height as myself.”  
  
“And why would I tell you the location of my mate?”  
  
The Spanish one who had been speaking went silent and pale. Athos caught a glimpse of a jewelled cross resting on his chest, and smirked. Whoops.  
  
“Yes, _nosferatu_ do had sodomite relationships with one another. Males can mate with other males, the same with women. Queasy yet?”  
  
The black one cleared his throat.  
  
“We need to speak with your mate.”  
  
“No you don’t; both he and I have been pardoned by your Captain Treville. We sought him out and he granted us permission to live. You have no right to be on my doorstep questioning me.”  
  
Footsteps on the stairs caused Athos to turn slightly, watching Armand walk down the stairs. He gave the older human a smile, shifting so he could get by.  
  
“I’ll come around later... See how you’re doing.”  
  
Armand smiled weakly at Athos, nodding a little.  
  
“Thank you...”  
  
Athos bowed his head as Armand walked past the two men in his doorway. No one said anything until the man had disappeared into his own house.  
  
“Now then, Musketeers, I would invite you in but I sense you have weapons on you and I will not permit weapons in my house. Not when my mate could pop in at any second. And no, Comte de Rochefort of Barcelona did not murder Adele Bessette. I am confident in risking my own life when I say that. Now, if you would excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”  
  
“Such as blood-drinking?”  
  
“Such as stepping up to my title of Comte de La Fere and looking after my people.”  
  
The door slammed shut and Athos leaned against it for a second before walking off to get dressed, snarling.  
  
//  
  
Aramis and Porthos stared at the door, frowning a little bit.  
  
“You’d think considering his life is on the line that he would want to cooperate with us a little bit more.”  
  
Porthos chuckled, beginning to make his way down the path.  
  
“I’m a little worried by the fact that all these Comte’s seem to be _nosferatu_.”  
  
“Males reproducing with each other... Preposterous. It’s not possible. Treville would have mentioned it if it were possible.”  
  
“Unless Treville doesn’t know...”  
  
Aramis paused, watching Porthos.  
  
“Do you think it is possible?”  
  
“Not even remotely. Once I see it, I’ll believe it.”  
  
“Ah... Those famous words of yours when we faced that _shojo_.”  
  
“Hey, that thing nearly killed you, be thankful for my intoxication.”  
  
Aramis laughed heartily, making their way through the forest. It seemed much less terrifying in the daylight.   
  
“Did d’Artagnan leave the camp?”  
  
“He was still asleep when we left. That kid could sleep for France.”  
  
Aramis chuckled, crunching twigs underfoot as he watched the ground, Porthos, in turn, watching the way around them.  
  
“He’s young... I believe it was quite by accident he experienced his first paranorm. What was his story?”  
  
“A _lyconthrope_ murdered my Father when we were trying to leave the area because of it – it sniffed me over before leaving as the sun began to rise. After burying my Father, I fled from Gascon to Paris, not knowing where to go, and not waiting for the _lyconthrope_ to come back and murder me. Treville found me talking of my experience in The Drunken Mare tavern, sat with me, listened to me, and then bought me back to the garrison where he introduced me to you two and then sent me on this mission with you both, despite the fact I still haven’t had enough training to be sent on a mission as such.”  
  
Aramis rose and eyebrow as he spotted the boy in a tree, devouring his way through an apple.  
  
“You told us you joined for revenge.”  
  
“I did. Well, I joined because I was lost and didn’t know what to do. After a while, I decided revenge on the beast that killed my Father seemed appropriate.”  
  
Porthos sighed and beckoned him down.  
  
“Alright, listen short stack, we’ve got a solo mission for you. Try not to fall asleep this time. Go to La Fere, it’s a half hour’s ride from here. Athos, the one that lives next to the widower, he is the Comte there. He’s going to join with his people. I want you there. Say you’re just passing through but do not tell him of you connection to us, do not let him know that you know he is a _nosferatu_ and for god’s sake don’t shoot him.”  
  
d’Artagnan nodded and made his way to his horse, resting in the trees.   
  
“I’ll come back by sundown, tell you everything I find out.”  
  
The men all nodded at each other and then d’Artagnan was off, urging his horse as fast as it could go in the dense forest.


	4. Recon

d’Artagnan rode through the woods, down the empty tracks, glancing around him at every possible second. What if the blond _nosferatu_ was right and it wasn’t _nosferatu_ killings? Being out like this alone, with limited ammo could be deadly. Not that he was going to risk his life for this. A sigh escaped his lips as he rode, settling against Zad as they trotted through trees. What if this Athos knew he was a hunter? He didn’t wear the fleur du lies; he hadn’t earned it yet, but he might still realise. Would Athos kill him? Hold him down and drain him of blood? Would he tie him up and leave him for the more nocturnal paramorms?  
  
Could he lose his life over this mission?  
  
_Stop. Stop thinking like that. Your Father would smack you up the head for these thoughts._  
  
d’Artagnan shook his head. The people in La Fère were at risk if Athos was a _nosferatu_ , and they needed help. He would go in, do some work around the village, discreetly ask about Athos and then be back by the camp by nightfall.  
  
Everything would go smoothly. He was sure of it.  
  
//  
  
d’Artagnan climbed off Zad, stroking his hand down the horse’s snout as he took a breath. This was his chance to earn his commission.  
  
He suddenly became all too aware that everyone was staring at him. He turned, every single person in the village was silent, the children weren’t play and even the animals were quiet.  
  
d’Artagnan could feel his breathing starting to become uneven as he panicked; what the hell did he do in this situation? Thankfully, someone moved over.  
  
“Good morning to you, Sir! Might I take your horse down to the stables? Give him a brush and something to eat?”  
  
d’Artagnan nodded and gave the reigns to the man. As Zad passed, the Musketeer looked around. His eyes fell on a man in full body clothing – a dark blue doublet, dark blue breeches, and a hat – with a feather sticking out of it. That must be Athos. Hidden away from the sun, even having a parasol by his side should it get brighter.  
  
Sure enough, he made his way over, clearing his throat.  
  
“I’m Olivier d’Athos, I am the Comte here...”  
  
d’Artagnan noted how he approached the boy with suspicion.  
  
“What can we do for you?”  
  
Crap.  
d’Artagnan hadn’t given himself a back story. His eyes went wide slightly as he looked around, hoping to God that he made it seem as though he were taken back before clearing his throat.  
  
“Charles d’Artagnan. I am travelling to Paris, from Gascony. I’ve been riding most of the night, my camp was attacked by a _lycanthrope_ , my Fath- Father didn’t get out.”  
  
Athos’ own eyes went wide slightly, sympathy filling them.  
  
“My condolences. You can stay here in La Fère for as long as you need. A stranger in help is a friend to us. I promise you, you are safe here.”  
  
“No creatures or beasts have come to La Fère since the d’Athos family moved in!”  
  
d’Artagnan smiled at the small child who had stepped forward, clinging to their Mother’s hand.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
Athos chuckled.  
  
“My Father was a great protector. Used all the old charms, studied into the cause of attacks; anything that could be changed to prevent them, he changed.”  
  
d’Artagnan nodded a little.  
  
“Sounds like a wise man.”  
  
“Oh he most definitely was.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Athos held his hand up and shook his head.  
  
“Go to the inn. Get some food, a drink, rest. I might drop by later... Please, stay here as long as you need to.”  
  
A young woman moved forward, smiling at d’Artagnan and he nodded to Athos, moving to follow her.  
  
“Thank you, Sir.”  
  
Yet Athos was already moving off.  
  
//  
  
d’Artagnan gently sipped at the broth that the inn keeper had given him, thinking everything over. If the village had been safe, did that mean Athos’ Father had been a _nosferatu_? Was his whole family the scum that probably fed off their elderly villagers?  
  
d’Artagnan sighed.  
This could take a while.  
  
He looked up as the young woman from before dropped into the seat opposite him.  
  
“I’m Jacques, I work here with my Father.”  
  
d’Artagnan offered her a smile.  
  
“d’Artagnan.”  
  
“So what brings you from Gascony to Paris?”  
  
“My Father and I were going to petition the King about taxes... He’s charging us so much, no one could buy protection.”  
  
Jacques nodded her head a little.  
  
“My apologies.”  
  
“It was quick from what I gathered.”  
  
d’Artagnan shrugged, dropping his gaze to the bowl.  
  
“That’s more than likely why Athos allowed you entrance.”  
  
d’Artagnan looked back up.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“When Athos was younger, his Mother and brother were slaughtered by a _nosferatu_. His Father died from what we believe to be the same one months later.”  
  
d’Artagnan cleared his throat.  
  
“He’s the only survivor?”  
  
“Mhm... He stayed here after his Father went. He was inconsolable.”  
  
“I know the feeling.”  
  
Jacques nodded a little bit before standing up.  
  
“I’ll set a room up for you.”  
  
“Oh please, I’ll be leaving before dusk.”  
  
“Is that so wise, with a _lycanthrope_ on the run?”  
  
d’Artagnan almost fell out of his chair when Athos’ voice sounded from behind him.  
_Rule #5, always sit with your back to the wall._  
Aramis’ voice echoed in d’Artagnan’s head as he turned to look up at him.  
  
“I would really prefer to get to Paris as soon as I possibly could.”  
  
“I understand that, but please, stay the night. Leave tomorrow at dawn; less creatures would be active at that time.”  
  
What the hell could he say? If he insisted, he might risk blowing his cover, but if he stayed, he could be risking his life...  
  
“Then I’ll take that room...”  
  
Oh Porthos and Aramis were going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I have Athos thinking of his family in 5 or 6? c; vote guys


End file.
